Encore
by Obje-re-ction
Summary: A play of dominance and submission after a Gavinners concert.


My ears are still ringing when I enter the stage for the second time this evening. Now it's covered in silence and darkness and he's crooked over a notebook, pretending to be thrown into a fit of inspiration so strong he couldn't even manage himself to turn the lights on sometime in the thirty minutes he's been sitting there. Everyone would buy it, of course, and probably just blame his genius, even though the standard of his lyrics are usually that of an eleven-years old. More than the leader he is the leadership, but every once in a while I have to wreck it. I walk towards him while pulling my jacket off and he sees me from afar, quickly puts his notebook down and stands up. So the play begins.

I tear his jacket off without a word, then his necklace which goes "Clang!" when it hits the floor. His shirt lands more softly and now he stands before me in all his clean-shaven, skinny glory. I unleash my belt and grab his hands to tie them behind his back. He can do nothing but stand still while I let my fingertips, still gentle to the touch, slide over his smooth chest, his hip bones, his concave stomach. All I can see is the slightly golden tone in his skin, and right now I worship it. I place my hands on his hips and kiss his collarbones, tenderly bite his nipples and lick his chest. I feel his breathing getting heavier against my lips. I lick his neck. "You like it?" I whisper. "You like it, you slut?" I lick him behind his ears. "Mhhhh" he answers. My teeth slide over the side of his neck as I exhale hot air against his soft skin. He's panting and when I grab his crotch I can feel he's already hard."What do you want me to do?" I ask with my mouth pressed against his jawline. "I want… you to fuck me." "And what will _you_ do?" He quietly answers: "Anything you want me to". I release my grip from his crotch and take a step backwards, then I lift my hand and slap him across the face. "Did you lose your voice on the concert, or what? Stop _mumbling_ damnit". My voice slithes through the air, sharper than I've ever heard it myself, and I'm damn pleased with it. "And look me in the eye when you talk to me." He swallows and looks up, but without raising his head. A little steadier and louder he repeats himself. "I will do anything you want me to." "Good" I say, grab a fistful of his hair and squeeze it tight while I lean closer to him. "So if you want me to fuck you, you'll have to beg for it." As I let go of him he kneels down before me, "Please… fuck me" he says and I look down on him in a pile below me; his blonde, bent down head, his bony shoulders, his hands awkwardly stuck behind his back. "Please, _please _fuck me." I keep looking at him, expression-less, then I tell him to kiss my feet and with one foot I push his head down to the other. He gives my shoes one light smooch each and then stay in that position, with his face almost pressed against the floor. "I will fuck you hard" I say. "Yes." "And without mercy..." "_Yes_." "…but first you have to prove yourself worthy of my time." As I say this I unbutton my trousers and pull my cock out, he's sitting upright now and I grab his head and move it towards my crotch. He claims never to have given head to anyone but me, so I've been the one to experience him gradually getting better at it during our jamming sessions. The procedure is nearly friction less due to the large amount of saliva, his muscles are straining as he tightens his mouth and the way he's using his tongue is almost an art in itself – from the wide strokes all over my cock to the precision of the tip of this tongue and Oh. Bloody. Hell. I can't come now. I'm not done with him yet. I say it's enough, and careful not to be too tender I grab his arms and help him standing up as his ability to move is limited. Then I let go of one of his arms, dragging the other to get him to follow me to a low table where the keyboard was less than an hour ago. "Bend over." He obeys, and after some fiddling due to his habit of wearing absurdly tight trousers I manage to get a hold of both them and his underwear and pull it all down to his knees in one snatch. When that is done I proceed to untie his hands, commanding him to put them on the table and keeping them still. I juggle around with my belt a bit, then follows the ever so pleasant sound of leather against skin. The endorphines make his fingers tremble, I swing the belt once more before I send it flunging behind me. I lick my hand and drag it over my cock, figuring that'll do as far as lubrication goes. Then I fuck him.

I'm certain the first thrusts are painful to him, and I'm just as certain he's pleased with that. The pieces of clothing wrapped around his knees unables him to spread his legs that much and I penetrate him roughly with my hands on his narrow hips. Sweat is dripping down my forehead and the bridge of my nose, I zoom out and concentrate on nothing but the tremor in my knees, soft skin and the contours of sharp bones beneath my fingers, and, most of all, the feeling of my cock moving inside of him; soft flesh tightly surrounding it, a thrill in my entire body concentrating at my glans. I move my pelvis faster and sturdier, he moans, "Shut up" I say and cover his mouth with one of my hands, the other I put on top of the table so that I can stand steadily while I continue to shag him. He's horny as hell but without getting direct stimulation to his cock it's impossible for him to have an orgasm. By not touching it, and by forcing him to keep his hands still on the table I'm putting pressure on him, teasing him, completely deliberately. I'm being dissolved into nothingness and all that's left of me is the feeling of pleasure, is desire; not for anything in particular but rather desire just to continue with the rhytm I'm creating with my body. I ask him if he wants me to cum in his ass, his answer is muffled but it doesn't matter since we both know it wasn't a question anyway. I keep going. One more, one more and I forget about me, the play I'm playing, him, and the fact that _oh shit I'm coming. _I groan under my breath as I reach climax.

I take my hand from his mouth and step back, telling him to turn around while pulling my trousers up ."Hands on the table." I won't let him have it yet. I could have kept him tied up with the belt, but these mental handcuffs takes more discipline from his side and are therefore more effective. I touch him everywhere but the place he desperately wants me to touch. He squints with his eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly and deeply, and tilts his head back. I stroke his inner thigh and now he can't hold himself back anymore. "Mhhh… please…" I grab his chin and push it downwards so that he's facing me again. "Wakey-wakey" I say and give him a slap. "Who's in charge here?" "You are" he answers. "Correct. And what is your job?" "To shut up and do what you tell me to do." Biting my lip I laugh and pinch his nipples. "Excactly. Or else there will be _consequences._"

I thought I'd made myself clear but it doesn't take long before he moves his hand to his crotch, almost unconsciously. Grabbing him by the wrist I slam his hand against the table. "Didn't I tell you to _keep _your _hands _on the _table_?" "Sorry…" His voice is hardly more than a whish. "…and weren't you supposed to _shut up _and do what I tell you?" Stunned he looks down for a moment, then nods silently."Then why don't you behave?" "I'm trying…" I take a step closer to him and grab the backside of his neck so that he can't look away. "Are you being stuck up to me?" This is my favourite part; backing him into a corner where he has no script and he doesn't know how to act. Right now he seems genuinely afraid of me and I enjoy that feeling a little more than I probably should. "Are you?!" "No…" His eyes flicker about while he's searching for an answer I will approve. "It's just… You…" "I'm the problem?" I rise my eyebrow, faking passive agression. "No! _I'm _the problem. You just… make me so horny and I… I can't help myself. I'm just dirty… slutty…" Even though it's part of the play this self-effacion jangles my nerves so I do what probably sits best with both of us at this moment: I slap him again, using all my strength. The smack is so hard tears are rolling down his face when he blinks and for some reason it turns me on.

"Look at you" I say, "you're pathetic. What would your fangirls say if they saw you like this? Crying like a wuss? Acting like a whore?" The answer is they'd probably want to eat him alive. He looks so turned on it almost makes _me _horny again with his tensed fingers, trembling lips, stiff cock, tears drying behind his closed eyes, his hair a mess, face blushing from arousement and from my strokes. But he can't see any of that. "They… they'd spit on me" he says and there's a hardly noteable shiver in his voice. "Yes." The glob lands between his collarbones. "Like that." I stroke his silky hair away from his face. "Now lie down."

He's on his back and my knees are bending his apart as far as possible, I'm covering his mouth again and we jack him off together. Him wound up, somewhat gauche, me with a tight grip of his hand, steering it, I work fast and steadily. It takes five seconds. Suppressed by my hand he moans almost inaudible and his cum lands as a light splash on his stomach not far away from where I spat on him.

I walk around the stage picking up my t-shirt, jacket and belt. He slides down from the table and puts his underwear neatly back on his hips, then stays in that position, standing silently, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. Even though we're finished he won't be able to recollect himself and get back to his usual persona until I've left. His body is dripping, with sweat, sperm, saliva. When I'm fully dressed and ready to exit the stage I get up close to him, to the point where I can feel his bodyheat without touching him. "What a good bitch you've been" I smirk, contrasting with how I give his shoulder a friendly squeeze, and then I'm off.


End file.
